Prelude
by Di-Bee
Summary: Coming from the latin prae ludo. Literally before playing. Two old friends, a piano, and music, or how Helen and Nikola can come to terms with what life had brought them. Romance, Teslen.


Title : Prelude

Author : DiBee

Summary : Coming from the latin prae ludo. Literally before playing. Two old friends, a piano, and music, or how Helen and Nikola can come to terms with what life had brought them. Romance, Teslen.

Rating : K+

Spoiler : Post Haunted and Sleepers, I imagine, but no real hint of this except for a flying metallic object.

Disclaimer : Nothing is mine, but the piano downstairs, and I don't benefit from writing this, except from my own entertainment, and, maybe, a few reviews.

Author Note : English is not my first language, but, sometimes, I do feel like music is.

Blame this on the Prelude in E Minor, op28 n°4, by Chopin, that I advise you to listen to while reading (at least simply for the beauty of it ), as well as on my reaction to one of the latest Tapping Tuesday, that had me grinning for like one whole day and sharing my joy with about every Sanctuary fan I know (and to whose I wish to apologize :s). As a pianist, I just snapped at the idea of Helen playing the piano, and having that particular piece in mind, plus another one you'll soon enough find out about, I couldn't but have a try at it. May as well not be the last music centered Os I write.

Huge (to me) Stargate reference inside. I just HAD to do it ;) Plus it fitted a bit too well for my own sake.

My first idea was to 'recycle' one idea I have had long long ago for an Ncis os, meaning introducing typical musical terms. I did so, only for the parts where she plays, and am still doubting my choice. My basic idea was : Helen mourning her daughter. It ended up with Helen and Nikola remembrance of their past and getting together. Don't ask how that came to mind, I'm originally a John/Helen shipper, and the way this naturally came to me... frightened me a bit. ^^Also I do consider Helen's last move as a bit out of character. But I'll let you judge of that yourselves;)

I took me some time to finish this story, but after reading some of Passionate Cec's fics, I just had to carry on, so thanks to her, and her beautiful writing!

Nikola stepped into her office, unbeknownst to her as he caught her unfocused sight at the keys in front of her. She had apparently sat in front of the piano without her own knowing, and seemed to hesitate what to do next. He didn't make a move, unwilling to disturb her, and wishing he could hear her play again.

There was a time, way back, when she used to play, when they would all gather around her, and just let themselves into the music she played, time standing as still as they were. John would stand immediately at her right side, James at her left, reading to turn the page if need be. He himself would stand not far from John, in her back, while Nigel would muse at his left, next to James.

Then, when she begun to play... His breath caught in his throat as he remembered one occasion, when it had seemed she had played only for herself, totally oblivious to any of their presences. It had been just her, and the light grazing of her fingers on the chosen keys, delivering a faint sound, that had grown into a forceful theme, bringing smiles to all of their lips as they were all reminded of the player herself, strong-willed and way too independent for her own sake, as her father often stated.

Nikola was caught off guard as a few notes escaped the long-untouched instrument, almost a reflection of the pain he could read in her body language itself. _Doloroso. _

Her right hand led the melody to his ears, and he focused on her fingers, averting his eyes from her face where he had thought, for an instant, catching the sight of tears striking down her cheeks. _Piano_.

She was playing by memory, what he remembered as her favorite piece, John's as well. A slow prelude, sad, yet expressing so much he really felt like intruding._ Tristamente, ma espressivo. _

His eyes drifted, for a second, over her face, where the tears had already dried over her soft features, mirroring his lost expression. She let out a few more bars, before perfectly managing the last arpeggio, -_perfect cadence_- leaving the sound to linger a few more seconds._ Fermata_.

She caught his reflection in the mirror-like blackness of the instrument, but didn't turn to face him, choosing to get back to the keys instead, silently accepting his presence. He took a few steps in her direction, and noticed she had straightened up at his approach. As her hands stood in mid-air, centimeters away from the keys, he put his on her shoulder, silent support to both their pains. He was surprised again as she leaned back into him, her fingers making yet another song come to life as he noticed her closing her eyes. She must have really known that one by heart, he realized. _Adagio_.

He smiled a hundred watt smile when he actually recognized the 'song', but felt something break inside him when she begun to sing along with what she played. There was too much sadness, and sorrow in her voice, for it not being linked with Ashley's childhood.

_'Twinkle, twinkle little star,_

_How I wonder what you are,_

_Up above the world to high,_

_Like a diamond in the sky...'_

He squeezed her shoulder as her voice broke on the last world when she tried, and failed at keeping her tears at bay. He could feel her repressed sobs under her hand, and looked at the bench before half sitting on it, bringing her in a tight embrace. The song seemed to linger in their ears, like the music had a life for itself, and kept swirling around the room for a little while before fading. He understood why when he heard the faint sound of the pedal being released by her foot, and wondered for the millionth time how it was possible that the notes could behave like people would, sounding lighter at times, meaningful at others. He only realized he had been striking her hair when he felt her lean in his embrace. It was rare enough that she let go for him to break out of the embrace just now, and he took in her scent, no different over the hundred-plus years he had known her. Somehow, the simple scent brought memories back at him, happy ones, where she laughed, smiled, and danced, too, when she convinced James Watson to play his violin. It was rare enough to be valued memories for everyone, music having always played a great role in the Five's relationship.

Nikola had never learned to play any instrument, and even after all those years he regretted he hadn't, not so much for the bound it created to people, he wasn't exactly found of that, but for it appeared to be the simplest of way to express oneself. And, in Helen's case, the only one she could bear. He was still holding her close, yet her sobs seemed to have calmed down. His hand was still in her hair, and he wondered if she thought he was taking advantage of the situation. Because he wasn't. Or, for once, not knowingly. He had always thought she had beautiful hair. Among other beautiful features. To be quite honest, he doubted there was anything not beautiful in her whole being. He even liked her angry. Well, actually, he loved to see her angry. Hence the perpetual provocation. He was a man of few needs, once you forgot about his obsession with wine. And world domination. And a few other bothersome things he didn't want to think at the moment, with her cradled in his arms. She was, for once, showing as many weakness as she possibly could without totally breaking down, and he was glad she trusted him enough to do so.

"Thank you, Nikola, for being here." he heard, muttered somewhere along her neck. He cracked a small smile and answered the same way.

"Any time." He meant it. Especially now that it was just the two of them left. He shivered when he felt her arms circling his waist, bringing him closer. For a second, he wondered whether she could be drunk, more depressed than he had feared, or had just lost her mind. But she wasn't one for not knowing where to stop, and he knew her too well for not having spotted any of the other two reason. Plus what kind of man was he to complain about her sudden need for tenderness?

He was sitting backwards on the bench, and when she leaned closer, he feared he would loose his balance and make the both of them fall over the keyboard. He soon regained his balance and tighten his grip on her. Better safe than sorry. He nearly lost it again, though, when he felt her lips against the skin of his next. And since she seemed to make no move to get them out of there, he assumed she had done it on purpose. When she looked up at him, he saw a lot of emotions twirling in her eyes, but some he was unfamiliar with, when it came to her. Insecurity, for instance, affection, that she rarely demonstrated, let alone to him. She appeared to search his face for something, and he noticed how lost she looked, before wiping with one thumb a tear, lost as well on her sad looking face.

"It may not be alright ever again, but we have little choice but carry on, plus..." He had begun in a soft voice, sounding resigned, even to himself, and had been interrupted mid sentence by something he hadn't seen coming.

He had noticed something changing in her eyes at the sound of his words, or maybe was it just the tone of his voice. Then, her face had been closer than ever. All the other times, it had been his initiative to kiss her, knowing it wouldn't earn him neither an answer not a slap. This time was different, not only had he not expected it, but she was obviously willing to go way beyond a simple chaste kiss.

It had taken him a few seconds to answer, the time it had taken for her hands to travel to the sides of his neck. He was taken aback, but not quite enough to not fight for the control of the kiss, their mouths opening to a whole new exploring. He noticed her half-closed eyelids, but frank look. She wasn't one for a quick change of mine, and of that he was glad, because he doubted having been able to pull back if she had. He smiled against her lips as he felt her nip at his lower one, but suddenly muttered an offended 'ouch'. She pulled back within a second, wondering if she had really bitten so hard, but he was just looking at her with half an amused smile, as he reached behind his head for what had been attracted to it. Her diapason.

He decided the next sound that resonated in the room was, once and for all, his favorite. Her laugh had that very special consonance that he wished to hear more often. And it was an instrument he was more than willing to learn to play with.


End file.
